


Lying is a Sin

by lammermoorian (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, bathsex, hierophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:04:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lammermoorian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam would be lying if he said that he wasn't scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lying is a Sin

**Author's Note:**

> frIGGING. HAS ANYONE SCENE THE PILOT FOR DAVINCI'S DEMONS. BECAUSE THIS IS THE BATHSEX SCENE. LIKE. HOW HOT WAS THAT DFLSKFDSLKJ

Sam’s heart is threatening to leap right out of his mouth. It is held back only by Cas’ sword at his throat.

Castiel had, as of late, been a little more rough with Sam than usual. Sam doesn’t really mind the bruises on his hips, or the rough rasp of a throat fucked hard - some deeply buried masochistic part of him privately revels in it - and it’s worth it, honestly, when after the fact Castiel will trace each scratch and bite with his fingers, then lips, grace sweeping over broken skin and leaving behind a smooth canvas.

Except for a few choice marks on his chest. Sam asked to keep the scars, and whenever he felt doubt, he would run a hand over them, to remind himself. Cas is a good guy. He’s their friend - practically their family at this point, and for some damn reason, he likes messing around with Sam. He wouldn’t say Cas is in love with him, not the way he is in love with Cas, no matter how much he wishes it were so, but at least Cas likes him enough to fuck him senseless whenever he can spare the time.

Like now, for instance.

Their credit card _du jour_ was almost maxed out, so Dean checked them into a slightly ritzier hotel than what they were used to. Two queens, a television set manufactured after 2003, and a shower with a bath that was actually just large enough for Sam to fit in comfortably. Basically heaven.

And then Dean went out for a drink. And then Sam prayed to Cas because he was a little bit antsy; he hadn’t seen Cas for a few weeks now, and he was really craving that kind of rough and tumble, better-than-a-work-out-release-every-endorphin kind of sex.

Except, he had gotten a little more than what he had bargained for.

Cas slowly drags the blade up from his throat to his cheek. “You’re frightened,” he whispers, breath heavy and wet in Sam’s ear. Cas’ free hand strokes over the skin of his neck, fingers tracing the outline of Sam’s adam’s apple, and Sam shudders at the question. 

“N-no, Cas.” Not entirely a lie. Firmly sitting on Cas’ dick, back sticking to Cas’ front, the coolness of the angelsword on his cheek a delicious counterpoint to the hot water of the bath, he’s way more turned on than scared.

“Lying is a sin, boy,” and there’s a short flash of pain as Castiel bites his ear. “It separates us from God’s grace.” Sam whines as his dick throbs. Talk of sin in bed is probably one of Sam’s greatest weaknesses. Lectures on damnation and vague threats coming from an angel of the Lord really shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Sam gets it. All his years of praying, the demon blood, the jump into Hell - Sam desperately wants salvation. Castiel gives it to him, through slightly unconventional means.

“Yes,” Sam breathes, heart beating faster as Castiel presses the blade down lightly, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that Sam can feel it. “I’m frightened.” Because even if this whole thing is way too hot to be real, Sam is scared of Cas at this moment. Castiel could kill him with one movement, or none at all, if he wanted. The hand on his neck is warm with barely concealed grace, and it burns him, just a little. And Cas - when Sam called him, when Castiel grabbed him by the arms and slammed him against the wall, kissing him, biting his mouth open and forcing his way inside, it did scare him a little. Sam sometimes forgets that Castiel isn’t human, and that, at the end of the day, he will probably never understand him.

Cas chuckles, the hand on his neck suddenly dropping to wrap around his cock. Sam gasps, barely containing his sudden jerk, the knife at his face an ever present reminder to stay still. “That’s also a lie, isn’t it? At least, a powerful one. A venial sin, perhaps?” Castiel’s hand slides up his front, pausing to tweak at a nipple, before moving to cup his jaw.

Sam feels like he’s on fire, like Castiel is burning something away inside of him, and it terrifies him even as his cock grows harder and his heart beats faster. “So,” Castiel continues, “which statement is correct?” Sam tries to answer, but the words get lost in translation as Cas shifts, cock pressing _just right_ into Sam’s prostate. “Speak, child,” he growls, “don’t you want to get into Heaven?”

_Yes_ , he wants to say, although he can’t decide between _yes, I want Heaven_ or _yes, I am frightened_. He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a broken, “Cas… _please_.” 

Castiel takes pity on him, oh thank God. He kisses Sam’s hair. “The correct answer,” he murmurs, hand snaking down to quickly jerk Sam off, “is both.” Sam comes with a voiced sigh, a wordless nnh from the back of his throat, and Castiel turns his face to kiss him as if he could take the sound right from his body, like a memento. 


End file.
